


Accomplices in Solitude

by olivebranchesandredwine



Series: I wanna hold your hand [10]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Holding Hands, Parent-Child Relationship, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-10-01 18:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/pseuds/olivebranchesandredwine
Summary: David hold Moira's hand after the Crows movie gets shelved. Post S5.





	Accomplices in Solitude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gottriplets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottriplets/gifts).

> Title taken from Gabriel García Márquez, _ One Hundred Years of Solitude_: “More than mother and son, they were accomplices in solitude.”
> 
> ―  
This one prompted by @gotttriplets. Taking more requests for hands to hold, HMU on tumblr.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married?”

If you’d asked him two years ago, David would’ve laugh at the question, and likely mocked you for asking it. If you’d him asked a year ago, a full year into his relationship with Patrick, David still would’ve laughed at the question, only quieter, a little more uncertain. More vulnerable. Because a year ago, he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the world to come crashing down on top of him, for when Patrick finally reached his breaking point, for the inevitable moment when he deemed David _too much._

He stared down at his left hand, idly playing with the four new rings, twisting them, changing the configuration on his fingers, finally settling on a configuration—two on his ring finger, one each on his pinky and index—and felt a tiny smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Patrick had proposed; he’d gotten down on one knee on top of a mountain and _proposed. _And with _rings. _David’s chest felt too small to contain all the emotions bubbling inside him; for the first time in his life, David himself was on the verge of feeling too much, and it was the most intense, amazing sensation he could ever imagine. He was ready to spend the rest of his life enveloped in all the wonderful, overwhelming emotions, the sheer _joy_ that he just couldn’t contain. Everything he felt for Patrick was _too much_, in the most delightful of ways.

But…

Moira.

Mom.

Her reaction to his engagement stung. Not that he had any reason to expect something different, but still…David had let himself hope, and once again, had found himself let down.

He wanted to be angry at her.

When she exploded in histrionics in the midst of his speech, that needy, frustrated part of him wanted to take sick pleasure in her despair. She’d ruined his moment, for the _n_th time in his life; it was only fair that she suffer, right?_ After all, _David thought to himself,_ he wasn’t a good person, a nice person. He was definitely the kind of person to take smug satisfaction in someone else’s pain. _Wasn’t he?

David opened the door to his parents’ room. Johnny was off taking care of business around the motel, and from the looks of it, Moira hadn’t moved since the night before. He could see just the hem her dress sticking out, preventing the wardrobe door from fully closing.

“Ma…Mom?” his voice faltered, and he needed to clear his throat a couple of times. David couldn’t remember ever seeing an episode this intense before. “Are you…how are you doing?”

His question was answered with a wordless, despairing moan from the bottom of the closet, and a small, ring-laden hand fell limply toward the floor.

David closed the distance quickly and, without hesitating, slid down to sit on the raggedy old carpet. He reached his right hand out and interlaced his fingers with Moira’s, gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m here, Mom. For as long as you need.”


End file.
